


the throne is blue - discontinued indefinitely (:

by hiclaire



Category: Dreamwastaken, GeorgeNotFound - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Chill, DNF, Dream Team SMP Spoilers, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Enemies, Headcanon, Internal Conflict, M/M, Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP Spoilers (Video Blogging RPF), Minecraft, Possibly Unrequited Love, Post-Manberg Festival on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), alternate universe dream smp, dream knight - Freeform, dreamnotfound, george king - Freeform, mean to everyone but him
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:47:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28655190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiclaire/pseuds/hiclaire
Summary: After the former monarch stepped down as King of the Dream Essempie, George is put into power.He chooses dream as his primary cavalier.From the start of Dream and George’s rise to power, George had always admired the masked man.They had fought together through numerous battles, George always leading the diplomatic arguments while Dream would lead the physical fights. Together, they won. They always won.
Relationships: Antfrost & Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Darryl Noveschosch & Sapnap, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Clay | Dream/Floris | Fundy/GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap/Wilbur Soot/Technoblade, Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Dream SMP Ensemble & Original Character(s), Dream SMP Ensemble/Dream SMP Ensemble
Comments: 13
Kudos: 29





	1. ttib. chapter 1.

**Author's Note:**

> i am referring to the SMP as "Essempie" in this story ahaha.
> 
> This is a dream!smp AU! This is about their characters/personas in the lore, not real life creators. If any of the people in the story, however, express they are uncomfortable with things like this, I will not hesitate to delete this story.
> 
> Hope you enjoy! Just as a warning, there may be minor descriptions of violence/injuries, but nothing very graphic.
> 
> *just as a disclaimer: the timeline may be a little off and the storyline may not 100% be accurate to the current state of the lore (there are literally hundreds of hours of lore content to remember so please bare with me ahhah- im not going to focus really on parts of the lore that arent important to this story btw)

From the start of Dream and George’s rise to power, George had always admired the masked man.

They had fought together through numerous battles, George always leading the diplomatic arguments while Dream would lead the physical fights. Together, they won. They  _ always _ won.

When the various scoundrels trying to seek refuge in “L’Manberg,” turned their backs on Dream and George, Dream vowed to protect George, and he did.

Dream and George fought against them and  _ won _ .

They  _ always _ won.

That night, Dream had pulled George aside. 

“Look, George,” he started, gesturing towards the setting sun. “Everything the light touches is our kingdom. A King's time as a ruler rises and falls like the sun. One day, George, the sun will set, and my time here will rise with you.” Thinking about it made George inadvertently smile.

Now, months later, Dream and George stood next to each other across from the current king, Eret. 

Dream was standing securely in front of George, only around a foot of distance between the two. In Dream’s hand, he held a shining purple axe. Even from a foot away, George could see just how sharp the blade was. It was covered in serrated edges, just small enough to smoothly rip through the material of his choice - George shivered at the thought. On his body, he was wearing what was once a bright green combat jacket, but was now dulled with use. It was accompanied with a pair of tan, dirt-stained cargo pants. On his hands were faded leather fingerless gloves. On his feet, George noticed Dream had on black combat boots with laces that were the same shade of green as his jacket. Finally, on Dream’s face, he had a large, white mask covering all of his features, forehead to chin, cheek to cheek, with a painted-on smiley face. The mask still didn’t cover Dream’s golden-brown hair, which laid on his head messily as he turned to face Eret. George could admit, Dream looked rather tantalizing.

“I’ve called a meeting with you men to discuss the terms of my kingship,” Eret started, his low voice breaking the silence between them.

“What is there to discuss?” George asked him nonchalantly. Dream turned to him and seemed to nod encouragingly at his neutral response. Dream had always told George to stay neutral.

“I am sure you men are aware of the Pogtopia versus Manberg situation taking place to the East of Dream Essempie, yes?”

Dream nodded in response.

“Then I assume you can tell how much the Pogtopia men are in need of aid.”   
  


“What are you implying, Eret?” Dream interjected, his facial expression unreadable due to his mask.

Eret sighed. “I would like to step down from my throne in order to help them.”

George felt his eyes widen. He heard a sharp exhale come from Dream’s mask. “Why, Eret?” George asked, his brow furrowed.

“I know in my heart it isn’t right to stay in power when those that I should be protecting need me most.”

Dream only nodded in reply. 

After a moment, he spoke up. “As you wish. Hand over your crown immediately.”

George was surprised by Dream’s bluntness - usually, outside of political negotiations, Dream was fairly light-hearted. Even in legislative environments, there was usually a joking manner to his voice. Now, however, there was a bite.

Eret did as he was told, handing Dream the crown, and promptly exited the castle.

Dream quickly grabbed George by the wrist.

George lightly gasped, “Dream, what’s going on? Where are you taking me?”

Dream moved his hand from George’s wrist to his hand and intertwined their fingers while still dragging him. Dream’s gloves lightly scratched at George’s hand. Dream didn’t respond, but George felt his face flush at Dream’s touch, as he did his best to fight it.

Eventually, Dream stopped pulling him when they arrived at a chest hidden securely a few blocks underground.

George turned to him, the white goggles he was wearing clouding his vision a bit.

As if he was reading his mind, Dream reached his hand out and slowly fixed George’s glasses so they sat on his forehead rather than his nose bridge. George felt himself blush at the interaction. “Wh-what?” George choked out.

  
Dream shrugged nonchalantly. “I just want to see your reaction to this, George.” His voice had taken a much softer tone than the one he was using with ex-King Eret.

George gingerly opened the chest in front of them. Inside, there was a book with a holographic purple spine. It looked rough; the pages were stained with dirt and the cover looked worn. George picked it up.

“Read it,” Dream instructed.

George did so.

The text read:

_ Dearest Reader, _

_ If this book is in your possession, I send you the utmost congratulations. As of now, you are the protector of the lands accessible to you from all cardinal directions. You are the right-hand leader of our sovereign nation. Now, you answer only to D. and the higher power themselves. Congratulations, reader. _

_ You are now the new monarch of the Dream Essempie. _

_ Lead fervently and lovingly. Be both selfless and selfish. Abide by your conscience and the consciences of those around you. _

_ Good luck. _

_ I leave you in good faith. _

_ -D _

George looked up to Dream earnestly. “Dream, you don’t have to do this-”

“Yes, George. I do.” Dream said, cutting him off. “Or, should I say,” George could hear a smirk in his voice, “ _ Your highness _ .”

George rolled his eyes light heartedly. “Oh my God, you’re an idiot,” he said, giggling a bit. Immediately, he pulled Dream into a hug. Dream seemed to flinch at first, but he soon leaned into George’s touch. George felt Dream rest his chin on George’s head as George buried his face into Dream’s chest. After a few moments, Dream pulled away.

Dream dusted his pants lightly, clearly trying to recompose himself after the boys’ close encounter.

“Sorry about that,” George said sheepishly.

Dream raised a hand in protest. “No worries, Your Highness,” he said with a shrug.

George rolled his eyes. “Dream, we’ve been friends for ages. Now, all of the sudden, you are just simply going to begin calling me ‘Your Highness’?”

Dream shrugged once again. “It’s protocol,” he instructed.

“Protocol my  _ ass _ . I decree as ‘King George’ that you no longer need to call me Your Highness,” George said jokingly.

Dream rolled his eyes before continuing. “We should discuss the terms of this. Specifically, who you want as a part of your order of cavaliers.”

“Cavaliers?”

“Like, knights,” Dream clarified, a small laugh to his voice.

  
George nodded. He thought for a second, before responding. “I already know who I will pick.” Dream motioned for him to go ahead, so he did. “Sapnap, Punz, and Callahan would be valuable to have as knights.”

Dream didn’t respond, and George quickly realized he had forgotten someone.

“A-and you, of course. If you would want to, that is.”

Dream nodded.

“Actually,” George said, an idea forming in his head, “what would you think about being my head knight? A paladin, if you will. Something along the lines of a comrade to lead with me?”

Dream nodded once again.

“You know, Dream, it’s quite difficult to see how you feel about my ideas when you have that plexi-glass mask on your face at all times,” George said light-heartedly, leaving Dream to jokingly elbow him in the ribs.

“Trust me, George, I’m smiling. Plus, if I took off this mask, I’d be too hot for you to handle. You would faint on the spot.”

George smirked jokingly. “Well, we’ll have to see then, won’t we?”

Dream nudged him lightly in the shoulder. “Jesus Christ, George.”

Dream once again took George's hand and dragged him to an undisclosed location, which George soon realized was back into the castle. 

“What is this?” George asked, his eyes entranced by the sapphire-coloured seat standing before them.

“Your thrown,” Dream said nonchalantly.

George didn’t reply - he was too busy admiring the various diamonds and crystals placed gorgeously on the seat.

“You like it… right?” Dream asked, his voice somewhat shaky.

George quickly responded this time. “Yes, Dream of course. I love it. It’s celestial. And… blue.”

“Your favorite colour.”

George immediately felt his face flush. He let himself turn away before thanking him.

“How did you remember that?” George asked turning back around, his face accompanied by a sincere smile.

“It’s hard to forget things like that.”

  
George nodded and pulled Dream back into a hug as they had been before. This time, Dream rested his head on George’s shoulder and George did the same to Dream. George felt himself instinctively run his fingers through Dream’s hair.

Immediately, Dream shot up, releasing himself from George’s grip.

George quickly backtracked, face flushed with embarrassment. “I-I’m sorry, it was an accident-,”

Dream nodded in response. “No worries, George, I have that effect on people,” Dream smugly joked, and George was thankful he wasn’t, at least noticeably, uncomfortable.

George nodded before motioning at the seat.

“Thanks for the throne, by the way, Dream.”

Dream only saluted in reply before exiting the throne room.

  
George felt so close to Dream, even though he was unaware of most of what he did outside of the time they spent together (George wasn’t even sure if, in good conscience, he wanted to know) and still had yet to see his face.

  
Dream was his best friend.

Together, they always won.


	2. ttib. chapter 2.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No,” Dream said sternly, however there was a hint of softness in his voice.
> 
> “Why?” George whispered back, a pang of sadness in his chest as a result of Dream’s response.
> 
> “I don’t want you to get hurt, George,” Dream started, pulling away a few inches. “It’s my job, as a cavalier - and a friend - to protect you.”

George was slowly getting used to being the primary monarch of the Essempie. There was something almost fitting of ruling alongside his best friend. Intrepidly, George called for one of his knights to fetch Dream.

After a few minutes, George watched Dream enter his throne room, the same purple shining axe in hand - except this time accompanied by the same-coloured and textured armor. He looked frightening, however George felt this to be almost enthralling.

“You called?” Dream said, and George could hear a smirk accompanying his words. He had gotten good at deciphering Dream’s expressions even when he couldn’t physically see them.

“I know you are joining our men, as well as the men of J. Schlatt in battle later today.”

Dream nodded.

“I would like to join you all.”

Immediately, Dream walked up so he was face-to-face (or rather, face-to-mask) with George. George felt his face flush. “No,” Dream said sternly, however there was a hint of softness in his voice.

“Why?” George whispered back, a pang of sadness in his chest as a result of Dream’s response.

“I don’t want you to get hurt, George,” Dream started, pulling away a few inches. “It’s my job, as a cavalier - and a  _ friend _ \- to protect you.”

“I don’t need protection.”

“I know.”

“Then why?”

Dream placed a hand onto George’s shoulder. “Because you are the King, George.”

  
George felt himself lean into Clay’s touch as he dissolved into a loose hug with him. He felt his eyes grow painful as tears slowly seeped out of them. “Please, Dream,  _ please _ . Don’t get hurt.”

Dream hugged him back supportively and giggled a bit. “It’s going to take more than a  _ piglet _ of anarchy and a contumacious  _ child _ to hurt me George, don’t worry.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” Dream pulled away from George but let his arm linger over George’s shoulders before eventually leaving the throne room.

George didn’t know how many lives Dream had left.

But he was not interested in finding out.

_____________

George, restless and unable to fight, decided to put his effort into building. He scavenged for a while before finding a small hill to create a cottage in. Carefully, he built up blocks of mushroom and wood to resemble something out of a fantasy book.

Throughout the corner of his eye, he could see what was now deemed “Manberg.” He tried to ignore the faint explosions he could hear. He tried to ignore the agonizing screams for help. He tried to ignore the twinge of guilt he felt for being unable to fight with his men.

What he couldn’t ignore was an ominous black figure that was floating overhead the area of battle. 

_ A Wither. _

According to what he could decipher, it was named after the pig who had fought so obstinately to abolish class and authority. George scoffed, before slowly taking in the situation. Dream was there, and could get hurt.

  
Carefully, he climbed out of his finished cottage and hid behind a structure, peeking at the sheer chaos ensuing. George scanned the area before his gaze finally landed on Dream’s body. He fought beautifully. His movements were graceful and thought out. It was as if he was dancing to the music of violence.

George watched as he effortlessly slashed his axe, red covering the surrounding areas. It was absolutely terrifying, and yet George couldn’t get himself to stop watching. It was as if Dream was a siren of chaos and his voice of bloodshed was pulling George in.

George forced himself to draw his attention away from the fighting across the cliff. He eventually worked on finishing his cottage, reluctantly stealing a few gazes towards the destruction that Dream was partially to blame for.

  
Still, George knew Dream was in the right.

  
After all, they were the  _ good _ guys, and good guys always won.

________________

George was sitting in his newly-made house when the door swung open. Through the doorway, George’s eyes met the blank eyes of a white mask staring back at him.

Dream’s clothes were torn and George could make out scar-marks through the holes in his attire. His gleaming armor was half-broken, the left netherite arm connected to his torso almost completely fallen off. What frightened George most was the dried blood on his axe.

George heard Dream emit a light gasp. “I’m so sorry, George. I didn’t know this house was  _ yours _ ,” he stated, turning to leave.

“Dream, wait,” George said, standing to put his hand on Dream’s shoulder to get him to stop.

George lifted up his hand in shock, blood practically oozing from Dream’s shoulder. Dream winced from the touch.

“What the hell, Dream?” George exclaimed. “We need to take you to heal somewhere!”

Dream only shrugged. “I’ll be fine.”

George rolled his eyes. Dream was clearly too proud to admit he needed help. George pulled the torn-up jacket off of Dream’s arms and wrapped a sleeve tightly around his shoulder as a substitute for a bandage.

“You’re welcome,” George said, smirking.

“Thanks,” Dream responded, and George could almost hear what he assumed was Dream rolling his eyes.

“Looking cute, by the way,” Dream said, now going through the door of the cottage rather than standing in the doorway.

Immediately, George felt his eyes widen and face turn a deep shade of burgundy. “Wh-what?”

George flinched as Dream playfully slapped the back of his head. “The house, you dipshit.”

George mouthed an ‘ _Ohhh_ ’ before continuing. “Remember, Dream, I _am_ the King. You can’t just hit me.”  
  


“Sorry, George,” Dream said, voice now unreadable.

“Relax, I was kidding, Dream.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Dream turned around. “Bye, George,” he said, leaving, not turning back to meet George’s gaze.

Dream was so …  _ strange _ .

___________

George exited the cottage and looked around quickly, making sure that no one was aware of his presence. He clandestinely sneaked towards the remains of Manburg.

Empty shells of earth plagued the ground, a testament to the power of the monster of death: the Wither. 

George grimaced, stepping over pools of blood. 

The aftermath of the TNT he had heard left what was once a formidable nation a wasteland. Stone was exposed where there was once lush greenery. It was barren and stark.

George turned and caught the eyes of an older man, one whom he did not recognize. George could make out tears in his eyes.

Upon further inspection, George realized the man was carrying the lifeless body of one of his former political adversaries: Wilbur Soot.

Wilbur had been one of the separatists who fought against the Essempie months beforehand. Despite their past history, George couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pain in his heart for the fallen man. George could at least attest, he was a formidable and respectful opponent who valued freedom above all else. 

George approached the man slowly.

“You must be the king,” the man said, voice indignant and scornful.

“Yes, I-I am,” George responded, voice wavering at the man’s aggrieved tone. 

“Did you take any part in this fight?”

  
George shook his head in response. He felt no reason to lie to this man. His tear stained cloak was accompanied by a green and white cloche hat that greatly contrasted the darkened expression on his face.

The man offered a weak smile before he slowly reached out a hand which George reluctantly shook. “Philza,” the man introduced.

George nodded. “I am sorry for your loss.”

George quietly walked back to the castle that only a short while ago was deemed his.

_______________

George sat on his blue sapphire throne, while Callahan, a silent but kind man, was guarding him to his left. 

Callahan saluted, signifying someone had entered the throne room. In strut Dream, much more collected and orderly than when George had seen him last.

Dream bowed to him lightly. George waved a hand lightly to signify such wasn’t necessary. 

George tilted his head towards Callahan, silently urging him to leave the throne room so he and Dream could talk in private. The man smiled lightly and nodded, heading out.    
  


George hopped off of his throne and walked towards the masked cavalier.

“Dream,” George started, watching Dream nod in response. “I saw you fighting.”   
  
George tensed as he heard Dream exhale sharply. “George,” he began, “I told you not to watch me when I do shit like that.”   
  


George rolled his eyes. “Relax, Dream. You are a literal artist on the battlefield. It was amazing,” George said with a smile.

Dream scoffed. “George, that’s my issue. I don’t want you to numb to the violence like-” he cut himself off.

“Like?” George urged.

“Like me, George,” Dream answered exasperatedly. 

George placed a supportive hand on Dream’s shoulder. “Dream, you aren’t numb.”

George felt Dream relax into his touch. “I am, George. But you aren’t yet. Please, don’t watch the violence, for your own safety. Promise me, George.”

“I won’t,” George responded.

“No, George,” Dream said, placing his gloved hand over George’s on his shoulder. “Promise me,” he said, sounding like a demand.

“I promise,” George said.

Dream nodded, turning away, which let George’s hand fall. He walked out without turning back to George.

  
Dream was so very  _ strange _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i may or may not have the next chapter already written so prepare for an update tomorrow hehee


	3. ttib: chapter 3.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream always seemed to be hurting him.
> 
> George could forgive him, though.
> 
> After all, he cared about him enough to make him King.

The next couple of weeks passed by quickly and painfully.

L’Manberg was almost finished with the process of being rebuilt; Schlatt, the man Dream had fought alongside, had died. Tubbo, another former L’Manbergian, was now in power. Fundy, Nihachu, and Karl were all ruling by his side as Secretary of State, Treasurer, and Creative Head Director respectively. George didn’t care though; as long as they stayed out of his business, he paid them no mind.

George had been returning to the main area of Essempie from a rather long journey. When he arrived at his cottage, however, his giddiness from his trip immediately dissipated.

  
There, his mushroom abode was lit partially in flames and various items and trinkets he had collected were nowhere to be found. Signs depicting explicit and vulgar words lined the walls.

In short, it was ravaged.

George knew who must have been to blame:  _ Tommy Innit _ . 

Tommy was a loud and boisterous child, one who had little respect for authority and little respect for the rules in the land. He regularly spoke out and acted against Dream, but destroying the house of the King of the Essempie was objectively uncalled for.

George felt his face falter. He could usually hide his reactions and facial expressions fairly well, but something about his house being destroyed was too much for him to bear. He flinched as he felt a tear roll down his pale cheek.

Staring at the remains of his house, he had hardly noticed a figure walk up behind him. Before he could react, a tall and protective man had pulled him into a hug.

_ Dream. _

George let himself collapse into him, holding back sobs.

“George, it’s okay. It’s just me,” Dream said unusually softly, arms protectively around his torso.

George allowed himself to cry slightly. “It was-..T-Tommy,” George choked out.

Dream pulled away. “He won’t get away with this, George,” he stated, voice suddenly becoming stern.

George nodded. “Just… don’t do anything stupid. He is a child after all.”   
  
Dream seemed to scoff at this. “Yeah, a child of the devil, maybe.”

___________________

Obsidian walls.

That was what George was met with one night when he snuck past Callahan guarding his bedchamber to go on a walk to L’Manberg.

  
George couldn’t ignore the purple-shining-armored man who was in the process of building them.

George inhaled sharply as the figure jumped from where he was building on the wall and walked towards him.

“George,” the voice said, low most likely from exhaustion or anger - George couldn’t tell which.

  
George gulped. “Dream.”

George watched apprehensively as Dream began nonchalantly swinging his axe in circles. “You’re supposed to be in your castle, George,” Dream stated emotionlessly.

  
George scoffed. “Sorry, I was a bit distracted by the  _ obsidian _ .” His voice sounded more distant than he had intended.

George made eye contact with the two black “eye” dots on Dream’s mask. He was illuminated only by the light purple fluorescent glow of his axe and armour. George heard a scarily cold laugh come from behind the mask.

“George,” he said, not laughing anymore. “Go home.”

  
  


George thought for a second before responding. He glanced from Dream’s mask, to his axe, and then back to his mask.  _ Dream wouldn’t hurt him _ , he thought.

“Why should I?” George asked indifferently.

Dream walked closer towards him. They were now probably only around a foot away from each other. “Because,” Dream started, voice deep, “If you don’t, I’ll make you.”

George felt his face flush, although he was unsure of what. Perhaps it was the bitterly cold night air that breezed in every few moments or so. “Then do it.”

Dream seemed to pause at this. George secretly felt a twinge of pride. “What?”

George smirked, “Make me.”

Dream closed the space between the two and George watched as he brought up his axe. George instinctively turned his chin up as Dream gently placed the blade on his throat. One small movement forward from either of them, and Dream could potentially fatally cut through him.

“Go home,” Dream whispered.

Unwilling to protest now, under the spell of Dream’s blade, George stepped backwards. At this, George watched Dream drop his axe and turn away to continue building. For what reason was he building, George was not sure. George walked away, trying to suppress the redness that plagued his face.

_________________

George’s newfound struggles began late one night when Sapnap, one of George’s closest confidants, Karl, a jaunty yet naive individual, and Quackity, a rather boisterous political wildcard, were hanging out with George. They were being rather reckless, drinking various potions and building arbitrary structures just for the fun of it. For the first time in what felt like months, George had the opportunity to do things simply for the amusement that came with them.

George, Sapnap, Karl, and Quackity were now strolling past the house of the former L’Manberg vigilante, the one who had so brutally destroyed his cottage, Tommy.

Upon passing it, George noticed a familiar man on the other side of the path: Dream. George tried to hold back a smile as the three boys passed by him. Regardless of their past encounters, George could not seem to hide his contentment when passing Dream.

“Hi, Dream,” Sapnap greeted, giving Dream a playful slap on the head. George was well aware of the two boys’ relationship; they were perhaps the closest of friends George had seen. Whenever George saw Dream training, it was always with Sapnap. George and Sapnap were close, but Dream and Sapnap acted like brothers.

Sapnap commonly wore thick black cargo pants, a white bandana holding up his rather long black hair, and a black long-sleeve shirt with a white tee over it. George giggled as Dream playfully tore off Sapnap’s bandana in protest of him hitting Dream on the head.

“So, Dream, what brings you here?” Quackity asked, voice rather confused. Out of all of them, Quackity definitely had the least allyship with Dream. Dream was someone you did  _ not _ want to have against you, George believed, so he understood why Quackity could’ve been perhaps at least a little nervous to be in his presence when they weren’t all too close. 

“I need to talk to George,” he said, tone morphing into being somewhat serious. George nodded and walked towards him.

“Be safe! Don’t get pregnant!” Sapnap called out, leading to an obscenely loud chuckle from Quackity, a flip off from Dream, and a furious blush from George.

George used his arm to cover his redness as he spoke up. “Dream, can’t they hear whatever you have to say?”

Dream shrugged. “They can, if you want.”

George nodded as Dream cleared his throat.

“Ok, George, I’m sorry about this, but I think you may not necessarily be-” he paused.

George gulped. Dream’s tone seemed almost  _ disappointed _ .

“I am afraid that you can no longer be king. Eret will be taking his place back in the palace,” he said, expression unable to be seen due to that god-forsaken mask. George felt his blush recede and smile fall.

“Whha-what?” he asked, voice weak. From behind him, George could hear gasps and undistinguishable muttering between Sapnap and Quackity.

“What the hell, Dream?” George heard Sapnap call out. The voices seemed muddled in his head, as if he was fighting off a fog overtaking his brain. That was perhaps the angriest George had heard Sapnap before.

“Fuck off, Sapnap, this doesn’t involve you,” Dream retorted, voice sharp and impersonal.

Sapnap coldly scoffed at this. “Yes, you fucker, it actually  _ does _ . I’d much rather serve this dumbass,” he started, first pointing to George, then to someone else, “than that traitor.”

  
George turned to see where he was pointing. There, awkwardly stood Eret, thumbs twiddling. “I’m truly sorry, George. No hard feelings, right?” Eret joked nervously, evoking no laughter in response.

George couldn’t get himself to respond.

George stood numb while he heard Dream walk closer to him. “George, can we please talk about this in private?”

  
At this, George’s paralysis wore off. He instinctively jerked away from Dream. “No, Dream, we can’t. Take it up with your new king.”   
  
George spit coldly onto Dream’s mask. He felt a venomous twinge of pleasure watching Dream have to wipe it off his mask with his sleeve. Still, his mask stayed on his face, the permanent smile piercing into George’s soul.

George let himself be dragged by Sapnap as the original group of men continued walking.

“I’m not even surprised,” George heard Sapnap mutter. “Did you see what he was saying to Tommy and his band of rebels on the obsidian like a week ago? Fucking sociopath, Jesus Christ. He doesn’t care about us. He doesn’t care about  _ shit _ besides power.”

At this, George was transported into his memories.

_ ___*days earlier*___ _

_ It was a couple of days after George had been confronted by Dream building the obsidian. At this point, the wall was complete. _

_ Dream had declared that Tommy must be exiled or he would declare war on L’Manberg. No one wanted to battle against Dream. Dream would win. He always won. _

_ It was a day filled with debate and arguments, none of which George paid much attention to. He was mostly paying attention to Dream. _

_ Dream had not told him why he had chosen to so staunchly side against Tommy. George had heard him mutter a few things to others in passing, many times able to hear the light whisper of his name “George”, but George refused to pry. He knew Dream wouldn’t break anyways. _

_ Dream had ordered George to return to his castle. _

_ George should’ve listened. _

_ He  _ should’ve _ , but he didn’t. _

_ George hid perched behind a rock to watch the chaos unfold. _

_ The vision was clearly imprinted into his mind. _

_ Dream was perched on top of the obsidian, towering over the cowering members of L’Manberg, all huddled behind Tommy who was clearly standing with a cloak of confidence masking his doubt. No one, not even Tommy, could stay completely sanguine facing against danger - _

_ Facing against  _ Dream _.  _

_ Dream jumped off of the obsidian to face Tommy head-on. Or, in his case, mask-on. _

_ Each word Dream spit out sent daggers through George’s chest. _

_ “Okay listen, you  _ fucked _ up this time.” _

_ His voice was cold, matching the bitter ague clouding the area. _

_ “I don’t give a  _ fuck _ about Spirit.” _

_ Spirit was Dream’s horse. George had once accidentally walked into Dream crying after Spirit’s passing. George hadn’t told him he saw him. George knew he “gave a fuck” about spirit. _

_ “The only thing I give a fuck about is your discs.” _

_ With this, George felt himself inhale sharply. George secretly wished Dream at least “gave a fuck” about him, and his friends as well. _

_ “I care about your discs more than you do.” _

_ Why, Dream? _

_ “That's the only thing I care about on this server actually.” _

Fuck you, _ George thought to himself.  _

_ “It’s the only thing keeping you and your friends safe, so if you don’t get exiled I will build these walls to the limit and keep everyone trapped in here.” _

_ Why does it  _ matter _? _

_ “I will hire guards,” he started. Dream turned to the new president of L’Manberg. “Tubbo, if you don’t exile Tommy within three days these walls are never coming down.” _

_ The only walls George cared about were the ones Dream had built between the two, as well as between all of their allies. _

_ George could forgive him, though. _

_ After all, he cared about him enough to make him King. _

_ ___*current*___ _

George was no longer King.

George stopped zoning out.

“Sapnap?” he started, voice stern.

The black-haired man raised an eyebrow.

“Fuck Dream. We don’t need him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope u enjoyed :D
> 
> comments / kudos / critique is always appreciated!


	4. ttib: chapter 4.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quite honestly, George found himself missing Dream.
> 
> George thought back to the warmth he felt in his stomach when Dream had shown him his former throne; the blue was blinding in the sea of greyness that George could see. 
> 
> It was no longer his throne, though.

As far as George knew, Dream was with Tommy, one of the people George arguably hated most.

_ What a bastard. _

George had been spending much more time alone now. He eventually rebuilt his cottage, which only led him more and more into solitude. He found himself sleeping through the day more and more, a lack of motivation keeping him from waking up.

  
Quite honestly, he found himself missing Dream.

George thought back to the warmth he felt in his stomach when Dream had shown him his former throne; the blue was blinding in the sea of greyness that George could see. 

It was no longer  _ his _ throne, though.

George would sometimes see Dream out of the corner of his eye, mask concealing his face as he ran about the Essempie sharpening his weapons or practicing combat. George enjoyed watching him. 

George couldn’t be mad at Dream.

He wanted to, he  _ truly _ did, but he couldn’t get himself to.

Nevertheless, he knew he would be seen as a traitor to Sapnap, Karl, and Quackity if he forgave him. Thus, he kept his true feelings in secret, not only for his own safety, but for the safety of his friends as well.

He and his friends had formed a small nation to the West of new L’Manberg, titled El Rapids. George swore loyalty to the area, effectively distancing himself from Eret. As far as George was concerned, they were no longer friends.

__________________

Around a month had passed since Tommy’s exile for burning down and bereaving George’s house.

George was secretly watching Dream from behind a rock and could sense something was off.

Instead of Dream’s usual conceited and fervent confidence, there seemed to be an aura of uncertainty around him.

Reluctantly, George revealed himself and walked towards Dream.

“G-george,” Dream exclaimed, a tone so soft George was unsure if he had heard such a thing from Dream before.

“Quiet,” George whispered, “We need to go somewhere we can’t be seen.”

Dream nodded and silently grabbed George’s hands.

George gulped.

_ He missed the feeling of Dream’s fingerless-gloved hand in his _ .

The boys eventually arrived at a small dark oak tree far enough from the main land areas where they knew they wouldn’t be seen.

“George,” Dream said again, the same soft tone as the first time.

  
George nodded, and with that was immediately pulled into a tight hug.

“I’m so, so sorry.”

George let Dream hug him for a few short moments before pulling away. “You said you didn’t care about me.”

Dream scoffed. “Don’t care about you? Hell, George, this entire thing is for  _ you _ !”

George raised an eyebrow, and Dream shook his head in disbelief.

“The obsidian walls, the exile, the war with Tommy,” Dream began, “It’s all to get you justice.”

George thought for a second before responding. “Apparently you don’t  _ care _ enough to let me stay king,” he countered, his voice venomous with reluctance.

Dream placed a hand on George’s shoulder. “Is that what you really think?” George shrugged, inadvertently causing Dream’s hand to fall.

“George,” he started, voice soft. George watched Dream move his masked head closer towards George’s. “I did it to protect you. If you were King, you’d constantly be in danger.”

“I don’t need your protection,” George retorted sternly.

“I-I know, George.”

“Then  _ why _ ?” 

George watched as Dream placed his hands on George’s chin. He was practically cupping his face. The fingers were exposed from his fingerless gloves, letting George feel the warmth of Dream’s hands. George knew his face must’ve been bright red.

“Because, George.”

“Because  _ why _ ?”

“I l-”

Dream was interrupted by a large  **_BANG_ ** .

George’s heart dropped as Dream’s hands became limp and they fell down his face, Dream collapsing onto the floor.

Behind him, George could see Sapnap, eyes wide with fear and concern. In his hand was a glowing purple netherite shovel.

George moved his gaze so they were sitting on Dream. He was clearly alive; at most, he was unconscious.

“Did he hurt you?” Sapnap asked, voice wavering.

George shook his head.

“You didn’t have to do that,” George chided, “He wasn’t doing anything wrong.”

Sapnap rolled his eyes aggressively. “He doesn’t care about you, George. He said it himself.”

“But- he said that-”

“Save it, dude. He only cares about power.”

“Sapnap,” George started, rather peeved he didn’t get to hear what Dream was trying to say, “he isn’t what you think he is.”

“Save it,” Sapnap retorted, placing a protective arm on his shoulder. “Don’t go near him again- for your, and all of our, safety.”

__________________________________________________________

***ONE MONTH LATER.***

All George could see was crimson.

His head pounded with tribulation and confusion.

It was 4 AM when Sapnap, former ally of Dream, had come to his cottage bearing a message. 

“One of the old L’Manbergians gave this to me to give to you. I thought it was important-” Sapnap started, gaze sharp and unnerving. Throughout his weeks away from his former best friend, George had noticed a heaviness in Sapnap. It was as if the usual light of the man was dimming, leaving him a cold shell of his formal optimistic self.

The note read:

_ Dear George, _

_  
_ _ Greetings. I am writing to you on behalf of … well, to be honest, quite a few people.  _

_ I am well aware of your erstwhile closeness with Dream. It seems, however, like he has betrayed you, just as he has betrayed all of us. _

_ I am aware we have grown rather distant, George, and for that I am truly sorry. _

_  
_ _ Do not blame me. _

_ Blame  _ Dream _. _

_ Jack Manifold, Nihachu, Antfrost, Quackity, Punz, Awesamdude, Bad Boy Halo, Callahan, Puffy, Sapnap, and myself have already expressed their support for this plan. _

_ All that we are truly waiting on is you. _

_ If you are interested in taking down this traitor once and for all, please, Essempie almighty, let me know. _

_ I believe you will choose good, George. _

_ Don’t let us - everyone - down. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ \- King Eret _

George finished reading and looked up at Sapnap. His eyes were locked on George’s.

“Don’t let us down, George.” 

George nodded, waving for him to leave. When he eventually did so, George collapsed onto a chair in his cottage.

George simply did not respond to Eret’s message.

  
Something in his chest could not let him fight against Dream.

____________________________________________________________

_ Prison. _

Dream was in  _ prison _ .

George had heard Sapnap ramble about what he had done, although his voice was muffled over the sound of George’s thoughts.

Dream had threatened to kill Tubbo, arguably the most innocent person in their land. He was only a  _ child _ . 

Dream was willing to murder a  _ child _ in front of the kid’s  _ best friend _ .

  
George was unsure of Dream’s connection to Tommy.  _ Was it a power thing? Did Dream find fun in manipulating people? Or, did Dream truly care about Tommy? _

George wished it was the latter, but the unsure pit that had manifested itself in George’s stomach was too painful to ignore.

And yet, George couldn’t find it in him to be  _ upset _ .

Awesamdude, or as George called him, Sam, had stopped by his cottage later that day. The man was objectively frightening, his blazing purple armor covering his chest. He had a green mask covering the lower half of his face, and bright green hair was peeking out of his helmet. 

He was the Prison Warden.

“George?” Sam asked, the softness of his voice contrasting greatly with his intimidating aura.

“Sam,” George started, “What brings you here?” He couldn’t help prevent the shakiness in his voice.

“Our…” Sam began, twiddling his fingers outside of his armor, “Our new prisoner has requested you as his ‘choice visitor’. I felt sharing his wishes was the least I could do considering his …  _ indefinite _ imprisonment.”

George winced. His brain was swirling with emotions - out of anyone, why did Dream choose  _ him _ ?

George nodded. “Alright, I guess I’ll think about it.”

“No worries,” Sam replied, eyes crinkling and therefore most likely forcing a smile under his mask. “If you decide you want to visit him, just let me know.”

With that, Sam left, leaving George alone with his confusingly jumbled thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the longgggg wait
> 
> more fun to come heh


	5. ttib: chapter 5.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George was going to rest- and rest well.
> 
> He was going to sleep.
> 
> He was going to
> 
> Dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter for plot things :) included some amazing fanart!

Cold.

That was all that George felt as he contemplated visiting his friend in the prison.

George had seen the prison before; Dream had insisted George see what he and Sam’s hard work had led to, forcing him to take a tour. Now, that hard work was being used to keep Dream locked away.

George had recently been finding difficulty falling asleep.

The sounds of skeletons’ rattling bones and zombies’ muffled groans outside of his cottage served as the soundtrack to his insomnia.

This night, however, George was determined.

He was going to rest- and rest  _ well _ .

  
He was going to sleep.

He was going to

  
  
  
  


_ Dream _ .

______________

_ George found himself in a dark room. _

_ Or, not a room rather. _

_ Just… _

  
  
  
  
  


_ Darkness. _

_ George couldn’t find  _ himself  _ in this void either. _

_ He felt like a presence, watching over the unlit blankness. _

_ He heard a faint whimper. _

_ It sounded like someone was crying. _

_ George could make out a figure sitting on the void, hugging their knees, letting out quiet sobs. _

_ After adjusting to the light, George realized who it was. _

_ It was Dream. _

_ His usual green combat jacket was replaced with a hole-filled, faded one. A white undershirt was visible underneath, also clearly torn. His mask that usually expressed a smile now adorned a frown. There were now cracks in it, however his face was still securely hidden. His hands were reaching out, scars and calloused plaguing them. His hair, which was usually fairly short, was overgrown and messy. _

_ There was some sort of light emitting from his palms, a mix of what George could make out as yellow and blue due to his colorblindness. If these weren’t the actual hues, he wouldn’t know any better. _

_ “Dr-Dream?” George heard himself say. He wasn’t sure if he meant to say it verbally or not. _

_ Immediately,the figure’s head jerked up. His sobs halted. _

_ “Geo-George!” he called out, voice raspy and broken. That alone made George’s heart drop. _

_ “It’s me, Dream. Where are you? Or, we?” _

_ Dream’s head was still facing the light coming from his hands. “I’m not safe here. Neither are you. I’m stuck here.” His voice was panicked and quick. _

_ If George could make any expressions at the moment, or even move, he would’ve raised an eyebrow. “Where is…  _ here _?” _

_ Dream’s hands seemed shaky. “I- I don’t know,” he stammered. ‘God, I’ve been trying to reach someone …  _ anyone _ , for  _ months _. Of course I should’ve known  _ you _ would be the one to find me.” _

_ George felt himself exhale, although he wasn’t sure if this was truly real. “I am dreaming, Dream. This isn’t real.” _

_ Dream seemed to scoff. “Maybe for you, this is a dream. I’ve been here for weeks, George.” _

_ George wished he could express his grimace physically. “What.. what’s going on, Dream? You’re in the prison, not wherever  _ here _ is.” _

_ Dream scoffed once more. “You don’t get it, George. That’s  _ him,  _ not  _ me _.” _

_ “Who is _ him _?” _

_ “I’m not sure, but whoever it is, he’s evil.” _

_ “Why are you stuck here? Is it your mind? Is there any way I can help? Why didn’t you try to “reach” me sooner?” George asked, throwing out questions rapidfire. _

_ “George, I don’t  _ know _. If I knew how you could help, I would. All I know is that someone has almost… taken over me. It’s like I’m me… but not.” _

_ George thought for a second before continuing. “What about the last question?” _

_ Dream’s attention was on the light in his hands. “I don’t want you to get hurt, George. This thing …” he started, tilting his head to the darkness, “It isn’t safe.” _

_ “I wish I could see you,” Dream continued. His voice nearly broke halfway through.  _

_ “Whatever this is,” George started, “I will get you out of it. I promise, Dream.”  _

_ Dream’s hands seemed to shake. The light emitting from them was dimming. _

_   
_ _ “What’s that light?” _

_ Dream was clearly trying to steady it. “It’s some sort of… I don’t know, magic? It’s what is letting me… contact you. Once it goes out, I don’t know if I’ll be able to talk to you again. At least here.” _

_ George wished he could give Dream a hug. “Promise me you will keep trying to get out of whatever  _ this  _ is, and I promise I’ll do the same.” _

_ Dream nodded. “I promise, George,  _ God  _ I promise. I’m trying, George. I really am. I just want to … not be stuck here. I want to be  _ myself _.” _

_ “If I could hug you, I would.” _

_ The light was getting dimmer and dimmer. _

_ “Hey, George?” _

_ “Yeah?” _

_ “I l-” _

_ The void turned completely black, and Dream was gone. _

______________

George jumped up from his bed.

Just a nightmare.

_ God _ , just a nightmare.

That’s at least what he thought, however, until he looked down at his hands.

Blue and yellow light shone dimly on them before dissipating.

It was  _ real _ .

That meant one of two things. One: Dream was stuck…  _ somewhere _ , and someone else had infiltrated his mind.

Or, two: George was going batshit insane and was hallucinating the whole thing.

For his own stability, he was hoping it was the first one.

George quickly hopped out of bed and sorted through chests, searching for a book and quill.

When he finally found one, he began writing.

_ Dear Sam, _ _   
_ _   
_ _ I have decided. _

_   
_ _ I would like to visit Dream. _

(fanart someone made!! they asked to stay anon but just know ily <33 )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope u enjoyed?
> 
> any comments? criticism? ideas? kudos? heheh any are appreciated :)


	6. ttib: chapter 6.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George watched the pools of lava drain from the ceiling.
> 
> Sam had warned him it would take a while; despite his infamous proficiency in redstone engineering, Sam could not seem to figure out how to figure out the mechanics to speed up the lava.
> 
> No matter, Dream had told George when he was outlining Sam and his plans for the prison, The slower the lava, the more ominous it is anyways.

George stood wedged between the obsidian walls of the prison, lines of blackstone only deepening the effect of duress and aversion. George glanced over to his left, where the prison warden was standing.

On guard, Sam looked like a completely antithetic person. His usually unkempt green hair was now slicked back, hidden behind his shining netherite armor. His toothy smile was replaced with a grim face of apathy, stripped of any emotion.

George watched the pools of lava drain from the ceiling. Sam had warned him it would take a while; despite his infamous proficiency in redstone engineering, Sam could not seem to figure out how to figure out the mechanics to speed up the lava.

_ No matter,  _ Dream had told George when he was outlining Sam and his plans for the prison,  _ The slower the lava, the more ominous it is anyways _ .

Dream truly had no idea.

George had to keep himself from almost scoffing at the bitterness of the universe. Nights ago, he had met Dream… somewhere.

Even though he tried to pass it off as a passing nightmare, George couldn’t shake the part of him that  _ knew  _ it was real.

George had recognized the light on his hands and that were emitting Dreams palms. They were the same type of light magic that dissolved out of the enchantment tables and potion stands during his various past attempts at being an apothecary and conjuror. George had recognized that not all of the people using these methods had experienced the same light he did, so he tended to keep to himself while pursuing these affairs. The light seemed special and singularly for him, as if  _ he _ was special.

That is, until his dream.

His dream where Dream had the exact same magic, magic he had never spoken to anyone about before.

George snapped out of his thoughts as Sam cleared his throat. “You can continue into the cell, Sir.”

George turned and saw Dream.

  
  
  
  


  
He looked beautiful.

  
  
  
  
  


He looked  _ awful _ .

Compared to the night before, even with ragged clothes, the man looked elated and full of light. The man standing before him in the prison seemed… off.

Immediately, however, after reaching George’s gaze, his shoulders seemed to relax. Dream still had on his damned mask, and quite honestly, George was surprised that in such a high security prison, Sam had let him keep it in the first place.

George walked up to the cell and quickly unlocked the door using a single-use card that Sam had given to him upon his entrance. He was instantly engulfed with the smell of Dream, his long and lanky limbs practically dissolving into George.

He felt like home- but a warped version. He felt almost … fabricated.

“George,” he heard Dream whisper softly.

It was not the same soft tone George had heard from him that night - almost, but not.

George couldn’t help but think of sleep-Dream’s warning: _“All I know is that someone has almost… taken over me. It’s like I’m me… but not.”_

George hoped that the Dream hugging him was truly him.

George felt Dream place his hand on his head as he began to play with his hair. George couldn’t help but melt into the touch of his fingers. 

“Oh, Georgie,” he said, breathily, leaving George to almost shudder.

“Dream, I missed you,” George croaked back. He was taken aback by this; he realized tears were streaming slowly down his reddened cheeks.

Dream pulled away, so George opted to do the same. “George, no. I’ve done bad shit. You shouldn’t miss me.”

George scoffed light-heartedly. “Dream, I’ve tried to get myself to, but I don’t  _ care _ . We’re friends, after all. Friends miss each other.”

“Friends?” Dream asked quietly, moving back to where he was in close radius with George.

George nodded. “Yeah… right?”

George felt the hairs on his neck stand up once again as Dream moved in closer once again. 

George watched Dream’s long hands closely as they moved up to his mask. He had to keep himself from averting his eyes as Dream pulled up his mask just enough to reveal a sly grin.

_ His mouth was beautiful _ , George thought to himself. His smirk was uneven, which only added to his curiosity. He was …  _ pretty _ , George thought.

“Would a friend do  _ this? _ ”

George practically melted as he felt two lips lightly graze his cheek. As much as he found himself practically…  _ enjoying  _ it, George could feel something in his chest that felt unclean.

It was as if he knew something was wrong.

George pulled away and glanced at the palms of his hands, of which felt nearly numb.

_ Blue and green light. _

Dream was trying to contact him.

The Dream in front of him let out an almost heinous cackle. “You figured it out, huh.”

George shot up his gaze to look back at Dream, whose mask was back in its usual placement. George should’ve known; of  _ course _ Dream would never do something as strange as kissing him on the cheek.

“Where’s Dream?” George tried to ask sternly, however his voice was shaky and wavering.

‘Dream’ laughed once again. “He’s…  _ somewhere. _ ”

“He’s … alive?” George clarified, guilt seeping into his skin.  _ If I caused any harm to Dream _ , George thought to himself,  _ I will avenge him, taking any consequences necessary _ .

“Yes, you dumbass, he is. Maybe not for long, though.” ‘Dream’ said, practically wheezing now. It wasn’t the kettle-like, chuckling wheeze Dream usually had, however. It was low and sinister, as if it was almost a growl.

“Wha-what do you mean?” George asked, feeling the tears once again falling out of his eyes.

“No one is saving him. Not even you,  _ loverboy _ . What a shame,” he responded, smugness and conceit lacing his voice.

George grimaced at the word “ _ loverboy _ ” - he and Dream were only friends.  _ Best _ friends, for that matter.

“I’ll save him. Fuck you, you- you evil Dream,” George croaked out, not even bothering to hide his anger and frustration at this point.

The blonde chuckled.

“I guess this is our formal introduction,” he said, placing a menacing hand on George’s shoulder. Unlike his earlier, and Dream’s usual, touch, it was sharp and harsh.

This was not Dream.

“Call me Nightmare.”


	7. not a chapter! a note!

**hi! please read :)**

ive decided for now im going to discontinue this storyline indefinitely unless / until i can think of a direction to write it in.

i feel like without more information on the lore and the "dreamon" in general, i have little to go off of... and i just feel kind of bored with this story.

until then, if i continue, feel free to check out "iambic pentameter," a story i am currently working on and updating!

i will have a new story out soon ( a highschool au :D ) so be on the lookout for that!

sorry to disappoint, but i dont want to drag this story on when it isnt really going anywhere.

thanks. hope you understand :P

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! As always, feel free to let me know if you have any criticism, comments, ideas, etc.!
> 
> have a great day <33


End file.
